


The Last Place We Left Off

by surrexi



Category: Doctor Who RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:16:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrexi/pseuds/surrexi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wants the cold, wants to feel it seep into her bones and settle in her stomach along with the echoes of pain from the last time she stood on this beach surrounded by cameras and people with pity on their faces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Place We Left Off

**Author's Note:**

> Written in April 2009 and posted to the billandteninch LJ community (I think?). Un-beta'd.

Billie shivers slightly in the wind, but she doesn’t stop to get the puffy blue and yellow coat they’d given her when she’d first arrived on set to film with Catherine.  She wants the cold, wants to feel it seep into her bones and settle in her stomach along with the echoes of pain from the last time she stood on this beach surrounded by cameras and people with pity on their faces.

She turns her back on the people and the cameras and walks down the beach, arms wrapped around herself in defense – against what, she can’t say for certain.  The cold, or something else.  Something like the memory of tears, prickling once again behind her eyes, or the way David had pulled her into his arms at the end of it, like he was afraid she’d dissolve if he let go.

She stops walking when she’s out of sight of the crew and stares out at the ocean without really seeing it.  After a few minutes she hears sand-muffled footsteps and the rustle of clothing, and knows without looking that it’s him.  No one else would follow her now, not today, not on this beach.  He doesn’t speak, just stands slightly behind her and to her left.  She feels his gaze on her, though, and it’s oddly comforting, just knowing that he’s there and looking at her, looking after her.

“I hate this place,” she finally says, and looks back at him over her shoulder.  “I can’t… separate it.”

He nods.  “I know.  I can’t either.”  He shakes his head.  “This beach will never be anything but Bad Wolf Bay.”  He lets out a mirthless half-laugh.  “God help the director who tries to set anything here on any other projects we do.”

Billie manages a small smile that quickly fades.  “I was mad when I read the script,” she admits.  “I saw the location and I just… I felt it all again.”  She turns to face him more fully, and his hands immediately come to take hers, fingers linking between them like lifelines.  “I’d put it away, and all it took was a name on a page and whoosh.”

David squeezes her hands.  “It’ll be easier this time,” he promises, and she knows he’s not just reassuring her, he’s reassuring himself as well.

“Maybe,” she says.  “For me, maybe.  You still have to leave.”

He smiles a little, drops one of her hands and reaches up to gently stroke her cheek.  “I also get to stay.”

“Are you really going to leave?” she asks.

He doesn’t pretend to think she’s still talking about what they’re going to film in a few minutes.  He looks out over the ocean for the space of a few breaths.  “Yeah,” he finally says.  “Yeah, I’m really going to.”  He looks back into her eyes.  “I think it’s time.”

Billie nods, understanding.  She shivers as the wind picks up, and he pulls her into his arms.  He is wearing his puffy coat, and she slides her arms under it, around his waist.  He wraps the coat around both of them and holds her tightly against him.  She lays her cheek against the wool of his suit – he’s wearing the brown now, and she’s glad because it’s hers in a way the blue isn’t, even if the blue is what she – what _Rose_ is ending up with in the end.  She feels him press a kiss to the top of her head and closes her eyes.

She hates the way this beach makes her feel, full of regrets and sadness and choices removed.  She hates that it makes her feel guilty when it all goes away because he’s holding her close like he used to.  Before she left, before she got married, before she got pregnant.

Before, before, before.

“Do you ever wish things were different?” she asks against his chest, not daring to look up and see the answer in his eyes.

His arms tighten around her, and she already knows what he’s going to say.

“Every day, Bills.”  He buries his face in her hair and inhales the scent of her shampoo mixed with salty sea air.  “Every day.”

They stand there for a few more minutes before going back to the set, and Billie has no trouble staying on the brink of tears for the rest of the shoot.


End file.
